


Hopefully, the food tastes as good as you

by DrowningDreamsForever



Series: Victuuri's Fluff+Random Prompts [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Domestic, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love sick fools, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27552070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningDreamsForever/pseuds/DrowningDreamsForever
Summary: If Victor can recall correctly, most of his attempts to make Yuuri food fail.Or, five times Victor fails to make Yuuri food, and one time he succeeds.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Series: Victuuri's Fluff+Random Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013949
Comments: 3
Kudos: 118





	Hopefully, the food tastes as good as you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of paying attention during class. Enjoy
> 
> Also, warning for very mild sexual content. Everything happens over their clothes.

If Victor can recall correctly, most of his attempts to make Yuuri food fail.

* * *

**Failure 1: Katsudon**

_ Oh fuck, oh shit. Yuuri’s going to be home any minute and- _

Victor’s panic increased as he heard the door to their apartment click with the imminent sign that Yuuri was back from ballet practice.

Victor could hear Yuuri trudged into their apartment with the accompaniment of the dropping of his dance bag. 

“Victor?” Yuuri instantly covered his nose with his long sleeves as he entered the kitchen, squinting his eyes as they started burning.

“Yuuri! Don’t come in!” Victor’s voice was muffled as he also pressed an arm to his face. His other hand was covered in an oven mitt, holding one of their cast iron pans over the trash can. He was hoping to destroy the evidence and light some candles before Yuuri could discover the destruction.

Ignoring him, Yuuri began to pry open the windows in the kitchen and turned on the fan above the stove. Victor listened guiltily as Yuuri let out a dry cough from the irritants crawling down his throat

Yuuri peered into the trash can, taking note of the charred, almost unidentifiable substance lying on top of the trash, “Victor, is that,” Yuuri paused, looking at Victor’s sheepish expression, “katsudon?”

Victor nodded miserably, staring at the noxious pork, “You always make me delicious Russian food, and I wanted to return the favor and cook you Japanese food.” 

The corner of Yuuri’s lips twitched up into a small smile, “And you picked katsudon, when you could have cooked me  _ tamagoyaki _ .” 

Funnily enough, Victor wasn’t  _ terrible _ at cooking eggs. But Yuuri already knows that. And Victor wanted to surprise Yuuri.

Victor pouted, setting down the hot pan on the stove before crossing his arms over his apron-clad chest, “Katsudon is your favorite.” 

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck, bringing him closer to press their lips together languidly. Yuuri broke the kiss, laying his head on Victor’s shoulder. Then, with his mouth close enough to whisper into his ear, Yuuri murmured, “Vitya, anything you make me will be my favorite food.” 

* * *

**Failure 2: Brownies**

The second time Victor attempted to cook something for Yuuri was a semi-success.

Victor was blinking at the recipe on the screen on his computer, trying to make sense of the words.

Last week, Yuuri admitted he was craving brownies, but did not want to indulge in them unless it was the offseason.

So of course, Victor would have to satisfy his dear fiance like he always does.

This leads Victor to his current predicament. Victor wanted to  _ make _ Yuuri brownies, but a healthier version. One that could satisfy his cravings, but also be nutritious. He scoured the internet, finally coming across a recipe that was healthy-ish as well as very much brownie-like. 

It has _broccoli_ in it.

Victor was skeptical at first, but scrolling through the reviews, he only read mostly positive ones with mothers gushing about how their child never noticed the vegetable.

Although, Victor doesn’t want to assume that Yuuri has the mental capacities of a five-year-old child.

Victor hummed as he added in the dark chocolate into the batter, shifting his hips side to side with the music playing from the speaker. 

He glanced back at the recipe, knowing that the broccoli was the only ingredient left he needed to add.  _ Broccoli puree. Broccoli puree? Does it mean pure broccoli? _

Victor squinted at his screen, as if he focused more on the arbitrary words, maybe the recipe would make more sense to him, “What do you think, Makka, what does broccoli puree mean?”

Makkachin sat dutifully by his feet, her eyes always trained at the bowl of batter in Victor’s hands. She barked as if she understood his predicament.

Victor shrugged, breaking up the pieces of the broccoli into chunks, throwing it into the batter, “Maybe the broccoli will dissolve into the brownie as it cooks?”

He preheats the oven, waiting until it beeps with permission for Victor to deposit the pan into it. Instantly, Victor sets a timer on his phone, so determined to not burn them like his last attempts at cooking.

He’s too nervous to even leave the kitchen.

After thirty-five minutes when his alarm goes off, Victor turns off the oven and quickly drags the brownies out, and lays the pan onto the coasters on the island.

Victor eyes the brownies, clapping his mitten clad hands together with delight, “Makkachin! It didn’t burn it this time!” 

* * *

Half an hour later, Yuuri comes home from lunch with Yurio, “Victor, tadaima!” 

“Okaeri, Yuuri!” Victor jumped up excitedly from the coach, momentarily disturbing Makkachin who laid contently in his lap.

“Something smells really good, did you bake something?” Yuuri commented, toeing his sneakers off before he entered.

Victor rushed over to the kitchen, almost giddy with the idea that he successfully made something edible, “I made you brownies!”

“Brownies?” Yuuri followed him into the kitchen, “You know I can’t, not during competition season.”

“These are healthy!” Victor insisted as he cut out two pieces for both of them. 

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he took the slightly warm brownie from Victor, “Wow, you didn’t burn them.”

Victor chuckled, leaving a soft peck on Yuuri’s cheek, “I’m learning.”

Yuuri bushes, turning his face to kiss the tip of Victor’s nose, “Thank you, Victor.”

“Thank me after you eat the brownie.”

Yuuri took a generous bite out of the brownie, chewing carefully as he maintained eye contact with Victor.

Yuuri **spat** the brownie out into his hand.

Victor made a strained noise in the back of his throat, a mixture of a painful whine and a groan.  _ How could he have possibly ruined the recipe? He followed every instruction, every measurement- _

Yuuri examined the mush in his hand, “Victor, is this broccoli? In the brownie?” he points at the mostly intact green vegetable laying among the brown slush.

Internally, Victor begins to punch himself. Of course, Yuuri is smarter than a five-year-old. Of course, he’s going to notice the vegetable in the middle of his  _ dessert _ . 

Victor sighed, feeling mentally and physically drained, “I tried looking up healthy brownie recipes, and there was one that had broccoli in it! And the reviews were  _ good.  _ It was attached to a mom blog that insisted her children never even noticed!”

Yuuri peered at Victor, his lips turned up into an amused smile, “Victor, can I see the recipe?”

Victor nodded enthusiastically, desperate to prove that he was not crazy and that the recipe was exactly how he followed it.

Yuuri stared at the recipe, and after some quiet contemplation, “Victor-” Yuuri stops as he starts his quiet laughter, “Victor, do you know what broccoli puree is?”

Victor frowned, “Isn’t it just pure broccoli?”

Yuuri throws his head back, laughing freely into the air, his hands gripping the counter as if he was afraid of floating away.

Victor smiled, wrapping his arms around Yuuri as he let a few chuckles leave, “Yuuri! If it’s not pure broccoli, then what is it?” Yuuri’s laughs are contagious, almost musical.

Yuuri shifted to be chest to chest with Victor, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “Broccoli puree, is broccoli blended down to be a liquid, which you were supposed to mix into the batter to be undetectable.” 

“They should have been more specific! They shouldn’t just assume I understand cooking jargon,” Victor complained.

Yuuri shrugged, taking a bite of the remaining piece of brownie.

“Yuuri, you don’t have to-”

Yuuri swallowed after chewing thoroughly, “I never said it was bad. It was just unexpected. And I think these brownies are true to you. I love them.”

Victor’s heart clenched with pure affection. He grasped Yuuri’s wrist, bringing the rest of the remaining brownie to his mouth to finish off the rest of it.

Well, now he knows why Yuuri had spit it out so vehemently.

* * *

**Failure 3: Apples**

It was within the first few days of living together when Yuuri set down a plate of apples on the coffee table in front of Victor, sliced into small sections with the skin peeled off.

Victor raises his eyebrows at the sight, “You peeled off the skin? Why go through all that effort when you can just bite it?” 

Yuuri flushes, his glasses tipping slightly down as he tilts his head down in embarrassment, “It hurts my gums too much to just bite into a whole apple with the skin on. And, I don’t know, this has been the way my mother always cut them for me.”

Victor bit into a small slice of apple, chewing with quiet contemplation. He has never had someone to cut up an apple for  _ him. _ Is that what it’s like to be unconditionally loved? “I understand why you eat them this way. The flavor of the apple is better without the barrier of the skin. And the texture—it’s so much  _ smoother _ .”

Yuuri let out a tiny snort, “You sound like you’re one second away from writing poetry about an apple.”

“Any food you make is absolutely decadent, darling,” Victor hums as he reaches for another piece, “You’re probably just so used to eating such high-quality food that it becomes  _ normal  _ for you. When you spend over fourteen years eating microwave dinners, your food is utterly  _ orgasmic _ .”

“Victor! You did not just compare an apple to-” Yuuri cut himself off as a satisfying flush descended down his body. 

Victor couldn’t even process the feeling of his back pressed against the arm of the couch until he felt Yuuri straddle his lap and desperately press his lips against Victor’s.

Instantly, Victor’s hands came up to cradle Yuuri’s soft cheeks, his thumbs running warm pathways across his skin.

Victor could practically feel his synapses severing as all his thoughts were trapped in a cycle of  _ Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.  _ Their lips slowly, but firmly worked against each other, quiet moans of appreciations muffled between them.

Yuuri’s lips left Victor’s, instead opting to suck gently at Victor’s pulse on his neck. 

“Yuuri~” Victor whimpered, one of his hands threading through Yuuri’s messy hair to attempt to anchor him in the present.

Yuuri firmly pressed his hips against Victor’s settling for small rocking motions into his lap.

The noises that Victor made were obscene. He lets out a feeble gasp as Yuuri presses their clothed erections directly together, using gravity to create constant pressure.

“Ah!” Victor groaned as Yuuri’s hand intertwined with his hair, gently drawing his head back to force his back into a small arch. Their lips met again, Yuuri’s teeth tugging insistently at Victor’s bottom lip.

Yuuri burrowed his head into Victor’s neck, letting tiny, addicting moans slip out his mouth, “Victor,” he started before breaking off to groan into Victor’s ear, “Victor, I’m close.”

“Me too,  _ Solnyshko, Ah!”  _

Both of them started rocking at a faster pace. Breathless moans are exchanged between the two of them. Victor felt the tension building in his lower abdomen, his hands moving to Yuuri’s hips to help them grind harder into him.

“Victor, Victor, Victor,” Yuuri repeated, a mantra of litanies spilling from his lips involuntarily. His hips rutted faster, before they came to a halt, twitching sporadically against Victor, “Ahh!”

“Yuuri!” Victor moaned, his hips jerking up as he came, the tension fading as bursts of cum coated the inside of his boxers.

All the tension seemed to leave Yuuri’s body as all his body weight collapsed onto Victor, every surface area of their body pressed together. Everything felt too sensitive, like Victor’s skin was tingling from the electricity of having Yuuri near him.

Victor’s mental capacities were still floating in a different dimension, his hands stroking up and down Yuuri’s back as he slouched over him. 

“Darling, you treat me so well,” Victor murmured into Yuuri’s slightly damp hair, his hair still permeating the scent of his sweet-smelling shampoo. 

Yuuri pulled back lethargically, his smile tired and his glasses crooked.

“Yuuri, you look gorgeous like this,” Victor cooed, adjusting Yuuri’s blue frames so they fit snugly against his nose.

“You must be looking in a mirror,” Yuuri whispered, still embarrassed despite Victor’s frequent compliments.

“Only if I look like a sexy Japanese man with enchanting eyes,” Victor pecked the tip of Yuuri’s nose.

The noise of the plate dully hitting the carpeted floor caused Yuuri to whip his head around towards the source of the noise. 

“Makkachin!” they laughed in sync as the brown poodle didn’t hesitate to scarf down the remaining apple slices on the plate.

* * *

Apples. Victor can’t possibly mess up on  _ apples. _

He’s watched Yuuri peel a numerous variety of fruit (including apples) many times in the last month. He makes it look easy, so it can’t be that hard.

The product of Victor’s efforts is a cut on his finger and the tiniest excuse of peeled apples in a ceramic bowl. Some of the slices had to be thrown away because Victor is sure the bitter tang of blood does not mix well with fruit. 

He groaned in frustration, his bandaged hand brushing through his hair. When he watches Yuuri peel the skin, he does it so easily, the blade quickly running along the edge of the skin as a thin layer of the skin smoothly separates from the flesh of the fruit. 

Victor’s lack of knife technique is very apparent in this situation. Half of the actual apple came off along with the skin, then was quickly gobbled up by Makkachin, who waited patiently by his feet. 

Part of Victor wanted to just forget he even attempted to do this for Yuuri, but his stubborn streak flared up again. He snatched the plate stalking into their bedroom where Yuuri was draped over the bed, mindless thumbing through his phone.

Yuuri glanced up, “Hi, Victor.”

Victor felt his eyebrows twitch as he laid the plate of miniature apple slices next to Yuuri.

Yuuri sat up completely, smiling as he popped a whole slice into his mouth, “Vitya, did you cut off the skin of the apple just for me?”

Victor let out a small laugh, berating himself for worrying so much about an apple. Of course, Yuuri wouldn’t care about a stupid apple-

“If I didn’t know any better, I bet if I looked into a trash can, we would see some thick apple peels,” Yuuri teased, standing up to peck Victor’s cheek.

“Ah, that would be false. In fact, half the apple is currently being digested in Makkachin’s stomach.”

* * *

**Failure 4: Potatoes**

“Happy Valentines Day, Yuuri!”

Victor's hand cupped Yuuri’s chin, their mouths molded together as they both melted in the warm, domestic comfort of their home. 

“Victor, did you cook us dinner?” Yuuri pulled back, heading into the dining room to follow the aromatics of spices and herbs, “It smells amazing.”

Victor preened at the compliment as he followed Yuuri into the romantic set up. The lights in the dining room were dimmed lightly, two lightly scented candles lit that sent inconsistent shadows flickering over Yuuri’s features.

The food was already plated and portioned out, adorned with oven-roasted chicken, potatoes, and pan-fried squash and zucchini. 

Of course, Victor did have some minor help. And by minor, he means an underaged minor (God bless Yurio) helped him cook the chicken and vegetables. 

Although, Victor was proud to say that he cooked the potatoes all by himself. If you can count heating up frozen potatoes as cooking, then yes, Victor cooked them all by himself.

They began to dig in, Yuuri’s eyes lighting up as he bit into the chicken leg, “This tastes amazing, Victor! What seasonings did you use?”

“Rosemary, thyme, salt, pepper, and lemon.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with conversations about nothing, just enjoying the company of each other. 

Until Yuuri bites into a potato.

Yuuri makes a face, but quickly schools his expression and continues chewing.

“Yuuri?” Victor leaned forward, grasping his fiance’s free hand.

“Vitya,” Yuuri laughed slightly, “Try a potato.”

Victor blinked down at the potatoes on his plate. They looked fine, heck, they came pre-seasoned so it isn’t like they’re too salty or too bland. Victor takes a stab at a potato and takes a bite.

Oh. The outside is fairly good, firm, and crunchy with just the right amount of flavor. The inside, however, is a different story. It’s  _ frozen. _

Yuuri laughs as he observes Victor’s facial expression, “It’s okay, Vitya, we can just reheat them in the oven.”

Now that Victor thinks about it, it would have been smarter to reheat the potatoes in the oven where the hot air circulates around the whole potato, rather than just cook the outside of it.

After a quick ten minutes in the oven, dinner resumes again, just as delicious as they started.

Dessert was better though.

* * *

**Failure 5: Noodles**

Victor was excited to make the new noodles and sauce he got from the Korean market. Phichit had recommended both of them, guaranteeing that Yuuri would absolutely love the dish.

It’s fairly simple, and Victor finds that things are going smoothly.

“Victor, are you  _ sure _ you don’t need help?”

“It’s going good, Yuuri! You can continue talking to Phichit!” Victor replied cheerfully, stirring the noodles in the boiling water.

From the other room, Victor could hear the small chuckles and conversation as Yuuri and Phichit video-chatted. 

Victor strained the noodles after he took a cautious bite of the steaming noodles, happy with the consistency.  _ So far, so good. _

Victor glanced at the direction on the sauce packet, knowing that neither he nor Yuuri could translate it. 

However, Victor was not going to take any chances. He was not going to mess this one up. Checking the clock, he noted that it would be 6:30pm in South Korea. Perfect!

Victor quickly DMed Seung-Gil Lee with a picture of the directions on the back of the packet. 

He was slightly surprised to see an instantaneous reply, Seung-Gil stating that there should be only one packet of sauce per packet of noodles they used.

Victor typed out a quick thanks before following Seung-Gil’s directions. Emptying the packet into the noodles and making sure it’s evenly coated. He separated the noodles into two separate bowls, grabbing some chopsticks and heading towards Yuuri’s voice.

“Hi, Victor!” Phichit’s exuberant face was pressed close to the screen of the laptop, his voice ringing through the living room, “Oh, are those the noodles I recommended?”

“Hey, Phichit!” Victor cheered as he handed Yuuri a bowl, “Yeah, they are! And I’m sure I made them right!”

Phichit chuckled, “Oh, yes. Yuuri has told me about your food extravaganzas.”

“Yuuri!” Victor whined, “Is my cooking that terrible?” 

“No!” Yuuri protested, clutching his chopsticks, “You’re getting so much better! You barely burn the food anymore.”

“Barely?” Phichit questioned.

“Barely,” Victor confirmed, sitting next to Yuuri on the couch. 

“Well, at least that number is getting smaller. The noodles don’t look burnt. Now, try it before the noodles get soggy!” Phichit insisted.

Victor and Yuuri both raised their chopsticks and took a generous slurp of noodles. 

Victor chews for a few seconds, letting the umami flavors swirl around his tongue. It’s surprisingly super good, the noodles filling and the sauce having a mixture of sweet and savory.

But then the heat hits.  _ Oh God, the heat. _

Both Yuuri and Victor react similarly, and at the same time. They spat out their noodles into their bowls, both frantically shoving their bowls onto the coffee table.

Victor’s entire being is on  **fire.** His tongue starts burning, along with the back of his throat. He’s very convinced that nerve damage is being done every second the sauce remains on his tongue. He feels liquid drip down his nose involuntarily, almost like he’s been artificially purified.

Yuuri is in a similar state, coughing as he desperately gurgles and spits water down the kitchen drain.

With a paper towel, Victor scrapes at his tongue, then uses another napkin to blow his nose. From the other room, he can just barely hear Phichit’s shouts of concerns mixed in with laughter.

“Victor, milk?” Yuuri’s desperate plea was still slightly distorted as his tongue was sticking out of his mouth under the strong stream of water.

Victor yanked the fridge open, his mouth full of ice in an attempt to negate the burning sensation, “No milk, Yuuri.”

It took another fifteen minutes until the side effects of the noodles were manageable. 

They both returned to the living room where Phichit was still waiting, an amused expression coating his face, “I didn’t think your spice tolerance was that bad. Especially you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shook his head, “There’s no way you actually ate these, Phichit. Those sent me into near death.”

Phichit tilted his head, his demeanor turning into quiet contemplation, “Victor, what did the packaging look like?”

“Uh, let me go get it.”

Victor returned with the plastic packaging, holding it up to the camera so that Phichit could see.

“Victor!” Phichit instantly gasped, “Those are the  _ spiciest _ noodles they sell. It has a Scoville heat unit of 8,000! The ones I like come in yellow packaging, not red!”

Yuuri groaned as he thumbed his swollen and red bottom lip, “My mouth is still on fire.” 

If Victor wasn’t in so much pain, he would’ve kissed those sinful lips. 

* * *

**Success 1: Borscht**

Japanese and Korean food was a failure, so Victor figured it would be safer to stick to food he was more familiar with. This week’s attempt: Borscht.

He received the recipe from Yurio’s grandfather, one that he remembers that Yurio brought him once when he was sick.

In a large pot, Victor had the water simmering to a low boil. He added in the vegetables, slightly frowning as he noticed his fingers were stained pink from the beets. 

Eventually, the dish was nearly finished after he added the seasonings. Victor lifted the wooden spoon, tasting the soap carefully. 

Instantly, Victor threw his arms in the air, a hearty cheer ringing through the air. It tasted  _ just _ like how Yurio’s grandfather makes it.

Familiar arms wrapped around Victor’s arms and a comforting weight pressed onto his shoulder, “What are you making Victor?”

Victor offered his spoon for Yuuri to sample the soup, “It’s Borscht.”

Yuuri licked his lips, “That’s delicious!”

Victor grinned, turning around to face Yuuri face on, “Let me taste then.”

Victor kissed Yuuri slowly, their lips shifting to follow each other. Victor pulled back, licking his lips as he gazed at his gorgeous fiance, “You’re right. It’s addicting.”

Yuuri blushed as he reached past Victor to turn off the stove so that the soup doesn’t burn, “Let’s eat, I want to see if the soup tastes as good as you.”

“Yuuri!” Victor fake gasped, ladling generous amounts of soup into twin bowls, “You keep that up, dear, and our soup will turn cold.”

“As much as I would love that,” Yuuri whispered, “I wouldn’t want to waste your hard work.”

Victor chuckled as they brought their servings to the table, settling opposite of each other.

To Victor’s (and Yuuri’s) relief, the soup is edible and even better, it’s actually excellent.

They both finish their servings, Victor almost tempted to lick his bowl clean like Makkachin. 

“Victor, why are your fingers pink?” Yuuri reached forward to grasp Victor’s right hand. 

“I didn’t know you’re supposed to wear gloves when working with beats.”

Yuuri stood up from his chair, stalking to the other side of the table so that he stood next to Victor, “Victor.”

Victor adjusted his chair so that Yuuri could sit sideways on his lap, “Vitya, your food always tastes so good.”

Victor raised an eyebrow in question, “Are you sure?”

Yuuri nodded seriously, “Name a time when it didn’t.”

“That one time I tried to make you katsudon, I-”

“Well I never  _ ate _ it did I? So I never tasted it. Plus, the pasta you ordered later was divine. I’ve never had vodka pasta before.”

“What about that one time I made you those brownies with broccoli in it?” Victor countered.

“The brownie itself was really good. The broccoli just added that extra texture to it.”

“And the apples?”

“Quality over quantity. Those slices may have been small, but the apples themselves were perfect.”

“What about the potatoes?”

“What potatoes?”

“The frozen ones. From Valentine's day?”

“Victor, those were the favorite part of the dish after we reheated them properly. Plus, we have two bags of them in the freezer right now.”

“The noodles?”

“The spicy ones? They were delicious, and I’m sure if we both had a better spice tolerance we could have finished them,” Yuuri firmly insisted, pressing a kiss against Victor’s temple.

Victor smiled as he buried his face into Yuuri’s hair, his heart beating faster as he clung to his lover, “You’re perfect.”

* * *

If Yuuri can recall correctly, all of Victor’s attempts to make him food are perfect.

  
  
  



End file.
